A large lump formed in ShaoShu's throat. He'd forgotten about the gigantic qiangs, or cannons, as the sailors called them, lashed to the deck rails.
As he tried to decide what to do next, a quick darting movement caught ShaoShu's eye. He froze, and his nose twitched. He locked his gaze on the far side of the tarp and saw a small brown blur darting about close to the ground. A mouse! He couldn't believe his good luck.
ShaoShu relaxed, grateful for the company. He reached into the folds of his dirty robe and fished out the remains of a bean-paste bun he'd swiped from a sailor earlier. ShaoShu dropped a few crumbs on the treasure pile around him and sat perfectly still. A moment later, the mouse scurried over, greedily consuming the sweet treat.
As the mouse was finishing its snack, ShaoShu gently held out a larger piece, away from his body. The small furry creature hurried over and began to nibble on ShaoShu's offering. ShaoShu smiled. He had always had good luck getting animals to come to him.
ShaoShu began to slowly, carefully, move his free hand toward the mouse to pet it when a second blur of movement, this time white, caught his eye. His body went rigid. He had had enough experience living on the streets to know what it was.
Dropping the bun, he scooped up the mouse and slipped it into one of the empty pouches he always had tied to his sash. The mouse squeaked in protest, and a white head with long flowing fur poked beneath the tarp. It was a cat.
The cat hissed, and a voice called out, “Mao? What is it? Have you found something?”
Before ShaoShu could react, the tarp was thrown back and he found himself staring into a pair of the palest brown eyes he'd ever seen. The stone-faced young man glanced at the shiny telescope on the treasure pile; then he called out to Tonglong.
“Sir, I believe I've found your thief.”
CHAPTER 2
Charles stood at the helm of his sloop, breathing the clean salty air. Finally, he was in his element. No more crowded streets, no more fight clubs, and best of all, no more kung fu. They were at sea. This was the place for long-range cannon and musket fire and pistols up close. Tiger-claw fists, backflips, and flying sidekicks had no business here.
Even so, Charles glanced up at the very top of his sleek boat's single mast. Perched there was one of the best martial artists he had ever seen, a small eleven-year-old boy named Malao, or Monkey. At the base of the mast stood another kung fu master, twelve-year-old Fu, the Tiger. Fu and Malao had been sailing with him for several days, and Charles was impressed by the speed with which they had learned to help sail the boat. He supposed their lifetime of rigid training helped them learn new physical tasks quickly
Two more young kung fu masters were also with them, though they had only come aboard a few hours earlier. The first was his good friend, a girl named Hok, or Crane, who was nearly thirteen years old. The second was a sixteen-year-old he hardly knew named Ying, or Eagle. Ying had saved Charles’ life in a skirmish with Tonglong weeks ago, even getting shot in the process of distracting Tonglong so that Charles could flee. However, Charles was still finding it difficult to trust Ying. Partly because it was impossible to read Ying's facial expressions. He'd had his nose, cheeks, and forehead carved and the grooves tattooed green so that he would resemble a dragon. Charles, a Dutch, blond-haired, blue-eyed fifteen-year-old from distant Holland, would never understand these strange Chinese. Why a teenager would carve his face or why a girl would take an animal name was beyond him.
There was no denying Charles had affection for Hok, and she had asked for his help. So he was helping her. He would do almost anything for her, but what she was proposing now was out of the question.
“I am sorry,” Charles said for the third time. “We have to turn around. Tonglong's crew has spotted us.”
Hok stared at him, unblinking, then turned away. She adjusted a large bag of medicinal herbs over her shoulder and grabbed a spyglass from Ying.
Ying turned to Charles. “I thought you said this boat was fast? Can't we outrun them? Let's at least get a little closer and see what we're up against before you decide to run away.”
“I'll tell you what we're up against,” Charles replied. “I had a clean sweep of their deck with my spyglass. They have fourteen twelve-pound cannons and at least ten soldiers with muskets. I have two pistols. We don't stand a chance. I can outrun them, sure, but we can't get any closer than this. Those big guns can nearly reach us as it is. I'm turning around.”
Hok uttered a soft cry, and Charles looked over to see her gaze fixed in the direction of Tonglong's man-o-war. “Oh, no!” Hok said. “They've found him! A sailor just lifted the tarp ShaoShu was hiding under. Take a look.” She held the spyglass out to Charles, but he didn't take it.